


Superunnatural

by Blobbyswinger69



Category: Crack fiction - Fandom, Supernatural
Genre: Crack Fiction, Destiel - Freeform, Multi, Supernatural - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform, superunnatural, twinchesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:36:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blobbyswinger69/pseuds/Blobbyswinger69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam need to save their father, John from dying. Sam comes up with the idea to turn John into a super baby. They're forced to raise baby John with only their feet, this causes John to have an extreme fear of hands and many other issues</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Superunnatural

Super Unnatural

Dean and Sam rode in the car in complete silence. The sun had just risen above the trees on the horizon. The brothers had finished their jobs in southern Georgia, and they’d decided they were moving west.  
“I’m glad were doing this Sammy,” said Dean in his Siberian Husky voice.  
“A new start is what everyone needs,” said Sam reassuringly. Dean stared off deep into the road; their father had a house in California which they were going to stay at. Dean had plans to make bank in Vegas with the use of some fake credit cards and their new, closer location.  
“Do you think Dad will be proud of everything we’ve done?” asked Sam. After a few moments Dean finally answered.  
“I think he will,” said Dean. He looked away from the road and at his younger brother. Sam averted his gaze from his brother’s; Dean was their father’s favorite and they both knew it, causing Sam to often feel judged. He cleared his mind for a long journey.  
“Can we stop by the cemetery? I have something I want to do,” Sam asked. he didn’t need his big brother to follow him this time.  
“What are you gonna do?” asked Dean, but soon regretted it. he was answered with silence. They arrived at the graveyard and Sam got out of the car, proceeding to walk through the lawn until he found his mother’s grave. Mary Winchester: 1954-1983.  
“I didn’t know you very well Mom,” Sam’s voice began to crack. “But I heard good things. I wish I had known you better. I’ll see you later.”  
He then procured a mini shovel and began to dig. Soon, after six feet of digging, the shovel hit hard against the wooden coffin of his incinerated mother. He lifted the cover of his mother’s final resting place to see his mother’s face, which, though charred and decayed, was still beautiful.  
He unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down to his ackles; good thing he forgot underwear. He squatted over his mother’s face and shat in her mouth.  
“You were never around to change my fucking diapers.” Sam began. ” Dad made Dean do it. He can’t even wipe his own ass. I had to wear diapers into seventh grade because of that. And because Dad didn’t have a fucking job, some days we had to eat it.” He closed the coffin, reburied it, and walked nonchalantly back to the car.  
“Did you have fun?” asked Dean with a slight giggle. Sam didn’t even look at Dean. For the first three hours no one talked. Sam was fascinated that Dean could make that stupid-ass face for three hours straight. Dean had his southern rock and roll playing full blast, so Sam couldn’t hear the screams of his past girlfriends. However as the result of some miracle, Dean was still able to hear his phone ringing.  
“Pick it up bitch; I’m driving!” yelled Dean. Sam flinched at how deep his brothers voice was. He picked up the phone.  
“Hello?” answered Sam. The rest of the phone call was murmured. “Dean, swiggity swag our dad could be in a bag,” said Sam, trying to be funny.”I mean he’s really sick” Dean’s head swung towards his brother and away from the road.  
“What the -,” Dean said, interrupted by a loud thump. His face turned white. He looked out his window and saw he had hit a dog. “Awww, swiggity swad thats too bad. I’m a hit and run type of guy.” He shrugged, and then zoomed to the hospital.  
When they reached the hospital, they passed thousands of busy doctors and nurses before finding their father’s room. He looked very sick and ill, like a squid that had been out of water for three years.  
“Dean, come here,” said John, making Sam feel left out as usual. He pulled his son close and whispered, “I’ve always liked you better Dean, just fucking ditch Sam.” While receiving this invaluable advice from his most prized role model, Dean had an incredible urge to put his finger in his father’s nose. John looked at Dean with no sign of discontent or worry. He took Dean’s finger out of his nose and put it in his butt. A nurse passed by and Dean, not knowing what to do, quickly shoved his finger into his mouth.  
“If you’re going to perform a prostate exam, use a glove,” she said, creeped out of her tits. Sam looked on in amazement. If only Dad loved me like that, he thought to himself.  
Sam left the room, dejected, to allow the father-son probing to continue. Dean caught up with him in the hospital cafeteria later on.  
“We need to help Dad get better,” said Sam.  
“Yeah, but how?” Dean didn’t really have any good ideas. The brothers froze in place and remained motionless for five minutes before Sam stood up.  
“I know what to do,” he said with epiphany in his eyes.  
“What, spit it out bitch!” said Dean eagerly.  
“Dad helps this world. He’s the hero that America needs, so we need to preserve him.” He paused and looked down.  
“What?” barked Dean.  
“We turn him into a baby, to live longer. But not just any baby, a super baby,” he said excitedly.  
“Uh, sorry to rain in your pants, but how are we gonna make a super baby?” asked Dean.  
“We’ll tie our hands behind our back and raise him with our feet.”  
“First problem, how do we turn him into a baby?”  
“With this,” said Sam, holding a container of baby powder. Dean didn’t know what was in the powder and he sure didn’t want to. It smelled like broken dreams. Long story short the powder was made from Castiel’s wings. Dean skipped down the hall to his father’s hospital bed. He creeped up behind the old man and dumped the crushed angel dreams onto his father. Within seconds John began to shrink.  
“Well burn my mother, and call me a Winchester!” said Dean, surprised at his two-week-old father. The brothers helped each other tie their hands behind their backs. The act brought back memories of their childhood.  
“How do we bring him to the car?” asked Sam. Dean placed the child on the ground and began to roll it with his foot. When it came time to put it in the car he dug his foot under the baby and kicked him straight into the trunk. The child let out a gurgly scream that was cut short by the trunk slamming shut on top of him.  
“GOOOAAAAAALLLLLL!!!!!!!!” screamed Dean. Sam was not amused. They drove to their dad’s house using only their feet and hit only three cats and sixteen little kids.  
. . . . . . .  
The next morning Dean woke up early to be with his mutated father. Sam walked in as Dean was shoving a spoon full of squash into young John’s mouth. Despite his efforts, the child simply refused to eat from Dean’s feet. Out of pure frustration he kicked the squash onto the floor and the baby started to cry.  
“You know what, I’m done.” Dean walked over to his desk and pulled out a sheet of demon-black paper. He cut out a small rectangle, put it on his upper lip, and performed a familiar fascist salute.  
“NEIN!” yelled Dean, racistly.  
“What the fuck are you doing!?” said Sam, concerned.  
“It would make me feel better if you replied in German.”  
“When the fuck did you learn German,” snapped Sam. Dean’s eyes burned hotter than Sam’s ex-girlfriends. Dean grabbed his brother by the collar, opened the basement door, and threw his giant-ass brother down the stairs. Two weeks passed before Dean ventured down there again.  
“Are you hungry, Sammy?” said Dean with a smile that could curdle milk. Sam looked up, regarding the dictator-like visage of his brother. Ditler put a set of scrolls onto the table.  
“Eat it.”  
“I’m not eating sacred scripture.”  
“Eat the Torah!” screamed Ditler. Sam ripped off a tiny piece of the ancient scroll, a sacrilegious feeling waving over his body. He put the piece of paper into his mouth and began to chew. He repeated the process until there was nothing left but the wooden handles. Ditler laughed and left his estranged, unsettled brother in the dark.  
When Ditler changed back to Dean he realized the wrong in his ways and unlocked the basement door. Sam walked up the stairs and into the kitchen.  
“Oh, by the way, our baby talks,” called Dean over his shoulder.  
“Sup bitch” said the surprisingly deep-voiced baby. “Sam, you’re looking kind of skinny.”  
“Yeah, well I’ve had nothing but holy Torah all week,” said Sam, beyond pissed off.  
“Oh, so you’re hungry,” said Dean. He ripped the yamaka from his brother’s long wispy hair and placed it on a pile of dog shit. “Eat it!” barked Dean.  
Sam brought the dog shit taco to his beautiful lips. The feces corroded his lips and he regurgitated all over their dad. After cleaning up his own sick, Sam went sulking to his room and cried to himself on Tumblr. Dean noticed Sam’s morose behavior and decided to help.  
“Gee Sam, you’re looking kind of sad,” said Dean, elbowing his flamboyant brother.  
“Gee Dean, how kind of you to notice.”  
“Yeah well you’re being a little bitch about it.”  
“Well I’m sorry I don’t hold all my feelings in. It’s bad for your mental wellbeing.”  
“Shut up Sam. We’re getting a dog.” Dean thought that Sam would be happier with a dog, but he didn’t seem to show much excitement.  
“Goodbye John,” the baby gurgled, then threw up. Dean gently shut the door, leaving the child in a puddle of his own sick. The brothers got into the slick black car and exited onto the freeway.  
“Dean?”  
“What, princess?”  
“What did Dad tell you at the hospital?”  
“To fucking ditch your ass,” said Dean with no humor in his voice. Sam looked out the window and began to cry. “Aw, Sammy, only when you get...you know.” Dean elbowed the giant sobbing twink. Sam didn’t answer. The car gained speed and in five minutes they were at the pet store, which was very dull and dark. The shop’s only light flickered even more excitedly than Dean’s pulsating hand, which was wrapped firmly around his brother’s rock hard bicep.  
“Why not this one?” said Dean, pointing to a black lab.  
“No, too dark,” replied Sam.  
“What about this one?” he asked, suggesting a golden retriever.  
“I want something different,” said Sam. They came across a cage that was boarded up. There was a small picture of what looked like was road kill but with the face of a dog.  
“This one’s perfect!” said Sam, both souls were as damaged as the others.  
“You guys can talk about your feelings,” smirked Dean.  
“Hello, we would like this one. We’ll call it Leroy,” said Sam in triumph.  
“I must warn you, he’s got some health problems,” said the clerk.  
“I can handle it,” said Sam. “All my girlfriends are dead.” They purchased the dog in a small crate which Sam carried to the car with one orangutan arm. It felt good to use his arm again. He was about to let the creature out in the back seat when Dean started screaming like he had a wasp up his ass.  
“HEY, NO, DON’T PUT THAT PIECE OF SHIT IN MY CAR!” he hollered.  
“Fuck yourself,” said Sam politely. He then realized that he hadn’t yet gotten a good look at the dog, and opened the crate to rectify the situation. “What the bloody fuck!?” he exclaimed, and in that moment he could’ve sworn he shat his pants. “Is that the dog you hit!?”  
“Fuck if I know. Is that thing wearing a mask?” inquired Dean. “What does he think he is, Gotham’s reckoning?” He bent down towards the dog to investigate. The mask was giving the dog 100% pure THC with every breath. It helped the dog cope with the pain since when the car slamed into the dogs body, it crushed its lungs“Hey Sammy,” shivered Dean “can we take a detour?”  
“We have to get back to Dad. No one cleaned him up.”  
“Oh don’t worry, he likes it,” Dean countered with a sweet smile. He stopped the car in the middle of the woods, then took out a big tube and connected it to the dog.  
“Was zum Teufel machst du da?!?” shrieked the dog.  
“I like this dog,” smirked Dean, more baked than any of Sam’s ex-girlfriends.  
“Did the dog just talk?” asked Sam.  
“Sam, your baby dad talks, you killed your evil twin and you’ve kissed a demon and watched her burn. I think you’ve seen worse” said Dean, reassuring his brother.  
“Alright, well do you at least speak English?” sighed Sam.  
“Sure as fuck do,” replied the dog  
They were then interrupted by a searchlight from an oncoming police car. As the cruiser got closer the red and blue lights began to flash.  
“TITS AND A BITCH!” screamed Dean under his breath. He took the dog’s leash and swiftly tied him to a tree.  
“What the bitch is going on?” demanded Leroy.  
“Goodbye, Leroy” chorused the brothers.  
“Ich werde all das kommunistische tÃ¶ten!” barked the dog. The Winchesters left the dog, they are not going to jail today. They ran with greater speed than a communist running from Hitler on a robot dinosaur.  
“The police saw our faces, we are going to need a new look,” said Dean. With no effort at all he whipped out his knife and cut off Sam’s hair.  
“I’M RUINED!” wailed Sam. Dean pissed a little watching his brother cry into detached clumps of his own hair. Sam composed himself, then turned to Dean.  
“I shat in mom’s mouth,” he confided monotonously.  
“No you didn’t,” replied Dean darkly. Dean put on his little mustache and pulled out another torah  
“Yup, go check,” said Sam confidently. Sam refused to eat it. Where did he get another Torah thought Sam to himself.  
“I killed Amy” he whispered in Sam’s ear. Sam started to cry again, but this time his tears were blood, which are only shed during a time of true suffering. After Sam got himself back together again the car ride was as silent as god. When they returned to their dad’s house they helped each other to put their handcuffs back on so that their baby daddy would never be exposed to the horrors of hands. Neither brother talked to the other for three months afterwards, until one day Sam came home with some exciting news.  
“Dean, I met someone!” Sam exclaimed, skipping around and flipping his luscious, recently regrown locks.  
“Who’s the lucky guy?” asked Dean, literally peeing on the floor.  
“She’s a girl named Amelia,” said Sam with his chin up. Dean was disappointed in Sam’s life choices.  
“Fun, while I’m here taking care of Dad, you get to go fuck around with some girl.”  
“Dean how do you talk to girls,” Sam came back sheepishly. He hoped this response would get him some sympathy from his brother and consequently some pusua from Amelia.  
“Well, it won’t matter because all your girlfriends end up dead, but I can show you what I know. Which is a lot,” Dean offered.  
“You’re a fucking asshole Dean”  
“Well Sam you are what you eat.” As usual Sam looked away awkwardly and started to cry. Dean gave up. “Hey, stop crying, I’ll tell you how to talk to girls.” Sam squealed like a pig being squeezed too hard, but with happiness. “First off, you can’t let them know you’re a little bitch girl. Wellâ€¦” Dean corrected himself “...a giant twink. You have to deepen your voice and look straight at them,” Dean looked over at Sam who was listening very carefully.  
“So like this,” Sam looked straight into his brothers eyes. “Hey, my name is Sam Winchester. I watched my mother burn over my crib; since then I can see people die before it happens,” he said in an extremely suave, deep voice. Dean got uncomfortable, but he liked it when his brother talked like that.  
“Exactly! You should talk to girls like that more often,” Dean said encouragingly while picking up baby toys with his feet.  
“Yes, but how do I, you know?” asked Sam trying not to be awkward. Dean did the milk curdling smile again.  
“Males are like dogs when it comes to sex. To mark their territories, they shit on the girl’s stomach,” Dean said so seriously it convinced his virgin brother.  
“Thanks Dean!” called Sam over his shoulder as he ran out of the house.  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sam was gone for only 30 minutes. Dean was surprised it lasted for that long; he chuckled to himself as Sam stormed into the house.  
“How did it go?” Dean called, trying not to laugh. Sam didn’t answer. “Oh Sam, what’s wrong?”  
“I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT” screamed Sam.  
“That’s a first,” smirked Dean. Sam stormed into his room, slammed the door, and fell asleep. Sam hadn’t slept in a while and slept for 19 hours. Sam woke up with a warm feeling on his abdomen. He quickly threw off the covers and looked at his bare chest, which had a perfect swirl of shit on it.  
“Dean WHAT THE FUCK!?” Sam yelled so loud it made his voice crack.  
“That’s for shitting on Mom,” said Dean casually, and strode out of his brother’s room. Sam dipped his pointer finger into the swirl and drew a pentagram on his heart. A few minutes later, Dean knocked on the door so Sam quickly wiped it away and licked his hand.  
“Time for breakfast, bitch,” Dean called through the door. Sam took a shower to wash off whatever Dean ate in the past twenty-four hours and went downstairs. He sat at the little yellow table and glared at his brother.  
“What?” said Dean, trying to look confused  
“I can’t believe you pooped on my stomach,” growled Sam.  
“It was me,” the gurgling baby giggled  
“Dad? Why?” Sam was hurt.  
“You’re a little bitch,” John said. Sam was just about to cry when John smacked him across the face.  
“Don’t you dare fucking cry Sam,” hissed John. Sam continued internally crying, every now and then shaking from the effort of keeping his tears from falling. Sam started to sing ‘Escape’ by Gwen Stefani until Dean smashed his hand on the table and glared at him.  
“Sorry,” Sam whimpered and went back into the shower to cry.  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

In a jail cell 1.5 miles away from John’s house, a dog with a THC breathing mask was about to go through with his plan. His cell had two beds, one containing a giant fat man with at least eighteen stick and poke tattoos. There was a poor excuse for a rusty toilet; the prisoners would rather urinate in the beds then sit on that toilet. Then there was one picture on the wall of Sam and Dean Winchester in a ‘brotherly’ embrace. The dog choked on his hallucinogenic gas every time he looked at the brothers’ faces. A guard walked by.  
“Ich werde euch alle tÃ¶ten,” said the dog in perfect human German.  
“What,” replied the guard.  
“Bereiten Sie Ihren Hintern,” the dog growled.  
“Is that a threat Leroy?” snapped the policeman. He opened the cell door to give the dog a beating. Leroy ran out and bit the policeman’s leg. While he wailed with pain Leroy ran out of the cell into the woods.  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
“Sam!” Dean yelled across the house, “Theres something wrong with the damn TV.” Sam couldn’t hear anything but a murmur over the roaring of the shower. “Sam!” Dean was so irritated he kicked down the door, and was puzzled when he looked in to see his brother on the toilet talking to a sock puppet. To Dean’s amazement the sock wasn’t on either of his hands. Sam quickly removed the cock puppet and ran out of the bathroom. Dean chuckled as he poured bleach into his beautiful green eyes.  
Dean walked into the kitchen to try and attempt to feed the mutated John with his feet. This time he was successful.  
“Why are your eyes red, Dean?” asked the baby father. Dean didn’t answer the applesauce mouthed baby. Sam inched in and looked at Dean awkwardly. Dean attempted to look away as Sam threw out the googly eyed sock. “Dean, be honest with me son, were you two blazing without me?” Dean cut out a new square moustache and stuck it on his upper lip. John shut up immediately. Just then, the phone started to ring. The brothers stared at each other dead in the eyes as it rang seven times, at which point Sam, being the submissive shitbaby he was, gave up and picked it up. Dean wandered off to fix the TV.  
“Dean?” called Sam til he finally found him. “We just got a call, we’re back in the game.” Dean looked up from the broken TV.  
“Who is it?”  
“It’s a girl from San Francisco, 68 Couldrel Drive,” Sam read from the note he took in his very poor footwriting.  
“Then let’s go!” Dean put down the pliers and walked around his brother so he couldn’t touch the dirty 6’5” kid. They hopped into the car.  
“WHAT THE FUCK” yelled Dean looking into the mirror. Dean swore he saw Leroy in the mirror but knew that was impossible.  
“What?!” asked Sam, concerned  
“Nothing, I just,” Dean paused, “forgot how gorgeous I am.” Dean smiled and winked at his brother. He is pretty handsome, Sam said to himself, then leaned his mopey head against the car window and reflected on how attractive his brother was compared to him. He then thought about his sock friend, and immediately regretted throwing it out. He was going to get it later. It soon got dark and the ball sack brothers parked the car outside a building. Dean got out first.  
“Dean, watch out for the moon people.”  
“What the demonic fuck,” said Dean.  
“...The moon people don’t like it when you swear.” Sam grabbed Dean’s butt. Dean flinched and ran to the door. There was a spontaneous spark next to the door  
“Damn!” cried Dean. He looked at the intercom next to the door. “Someone broke the voice box, the demon doesn’t want us to come in.” Then, two wires caught his eye. “Sammy wait. We could melt the wires together and get a flow of energy.”  
“Great idea, you got your lighter?” In response, Dean pulled out his black lighter and looked at the fluid inside. He noticed that there wasn’t much left.  
“Well I don’t have a light,” Sam said, looking down with a sense of doom. “And there’s enough in yours to make a small flame for not even a second. Gas will make it last longer.” Dean looked at his brother deep into his orbs, deep into his soul. “You want me to fart,” Sam sighed.  
“I’m not going to lie, yeah, you’re going to need to bend over.” Sam sighed and pointed his anus towards the door. “Uh Sam, I’m just as uncomfortable as you are but you’re going to need to remove your pants.” Sam attempted to protest but Dean pulled out a little mustache and Sam shut up. “I’m alpha bro,” whispered Dean.  
“Shut your sock hole,” retorted Sam. Dean giggled as he remembered Sam’s little friend.  
“Did you say that to googly eyes often?” Dean cracked up. Sam looked down as he took off his pants.  
“...Why arent you wearing underwear?” asked Dean. Sam started to cry.  
“When you locked me in the basement I had to eat them.” Dean was horrified at the lost opportunity to leave him longer and make him eat his sock friend. Sam angled his anus in front of the two wires. Dean lifted his thumb onto the sparker and lit the flame. Sam heard the sound of the lighter and ripped one. The flame grew larger, but Sam’s anus taking in oxygen to replace the lost gas set the inside of his rectum on fire. He sizzled with pain and fell over. After his loud tears and wailing he looked up at Dean, who was holding a new lighter.  
“That was for Momma,” Dean said sternly. Sam got up and pulled on his pants. He grabbed the lighter from Dean’s hand and swallowed it.  
“I’m locking you in the basement till you poop it out,” Dean said as he pulled out another mustache. He welded the two wires together and pressed the button on the intercom. “Hello, this is Sam and Dean Winchester,” he said in a deep voice. There was an automated beep and the door unlocked. They entered what seemed to be a normal house.  
“Who are you!?” screamed a lady hidden in the shadows. Sam and Dean pulled out their .42 caliber pistols in no time flat and shot her three times each. By the second shot she was surely dead. Dean lit the body on fire so it could never haunt again. A twenty-something girl walked in horrified. Dean saw this girl and wondered what she would look like on top of him, while Sam wondered what she would look like on fire.  
“Don’t worry, we took care of her,” said Dean, attempting to calm the girl.  
“That was my mom!” shrieked the girl.  
“Hey, wanna be a Winchester?” said Dean, completely serious. “You remind me of a girl named Amy.” Dean tried to get a laugh from Sam. Sam fell onto his knees with a mighty thud. He grabbed the woman and pulled her tight into his arms. The hairspray in her hair made it possible to still burn.  
“I’m so sorry,” sobbed Sam into the woman’s face. He looked into her eyes. “If you ever need to talk to anyone just call me.”  
“Alright, enough of the water works, where’s the demon?” demanded dirty Dean. Just then, the lights began to flicker in the upstairs bedroom. The ball sack brothers raced up the stairs.  
“Sam look, it’s Amy!” Sam quickly spun around to see where Dean was pointing. With Sam’s back turned to him, Dean pushed him down the stairs and ran into the room. Sam, face down in the burning mother, whispers,  
“I’m going to rip off his nipples and sew them on his forehead. Then I’ll shove my foot up his ass for so long the doctor will have to turn it into a boot.” Sam got up from the sack of charred flesh and walked swiftly up the stairs to see a pale woman staring at Dean. The demon snapped her head towards Sam. He stepped back, sending the demon charging. Right as the demon was about to get to him, Dean whipped out a knife and slit open its neck, releasing a gallon of black goo all over the 6’5” man that looked like pile of shit that had been squeezed out a nipple.  
“Oh shit Sam, you need to get that off of you quick,” shat Dean. They raced home and Dean busted open the door with weak Sam in his arms and dropped him on the floor. Before they could sigh with relief the power turned off.  
“Bereiten Sie Ihren Hintern,” a familiar voice says. Leroy. The dog made a barky laugh.  
“Dean, check the faucets, I need to clean this off!” screamed Sam.  
“They’re dead.” Dean looked at his brother.  
“I need to wash this off!!” cried Sam.  
“I know, but there is no way.” Dean unzipped his pants. “When mom was dying dad told me to protect you.” John watched from his high chair, giggling.  
“No, please don’t.”  
“I’m so sorry Sammy.” He pulled down his pants and set his white mamba free. Sam looked down, it put his gardener snake to shame. Dean began to urinate all over his brothers face and body until the black goo was gone, then let out whatever was left.  
“Are you serious!?” hissed Sam.  
“Might as well.” Dean walked to the sink to wash his hands. Sam looked at Dean in astonishment.  
“THE SINKS WERE FUCKING DEAD, MY CHARRED ASSHOLE!!!” shrieked Sam.  
“Oh...I thought you said fetus. Nah, the faucets work,” Dean said as he winked into the camera and the credits began to roll.  
“Alright, that’s a wrap,” said the director.  
“Good scene, right?” Dean tried to knuckle his brother.  
“WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE!?” Sam was beside himself.  
“This is a show bro, you’ve been on it so long you don’t remember. I’m Jensen; you’re Jared,” said the other man. Jared stared at his old father drinking a beer, flirting with the charred mother, then turned to Jensen and stroked his face.  
“So you never hated me.”  
“Nope,” Jensen smiled.  
“We’re not brothers,” Jared said.  
“Sure aren’t,” replied Jensen, moving closer. Jared leaned in for a kiss and felt his cheeks get warm with what he thought was a flush. He woke up with a start to see his brother’s bare ass inches away from him, dispensing soft serve shit onto his face.


	2. The second comming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam needs help from their family friend Blobby.

The hairy lumberjack sat on his homemade wooden chair with no sign of emotion. Isolated from the world and his family, he saw no reason to leave the expertly crafted chair. He finished whatever was left of his golden Corona beer and set it on the armrest. It wasn’t even 11 o’clock so he wasn’t yet tired enough to drag himself into his mattress.  
"Blobby," there were gentle knocks on the door. "Blobby? Are you there?" Blobby grabbed a bottle of water and slowly opened the door. It was Sam. Before the hippie could walk into the cabin Blobby splashed him with condoms.  
"It's me Blobby, I'm not a semen," said Sam with his hands in the air to show peace.  
"You always need to take pro-cautions," said the cabin man with a sigh. "What brings you here Sammy?" Sam glared at his uncle. Only Dean could call him Sammy, but the business at hand was too important to be postponed by dumb matters.  
"I'm here to talk about Dean," Sam began. His uncle sat back and got ready for a bitch fit. "He's just being a dick." Blobby sighed again.  
"Alright, what have you creeps been up to?" growled Blobby. "I've been hearing some concerning shit. Start from the beginning."  
Sam told his uncle the long and disturbing story of what he and his brother had been doing in the past year. Blobby's eyes got wider and wider as he listened to his nephew. By the time Sam was done, he was absolutely speechless.  
"You turned your father into a baby," Blobby finally choked out.  
"That's all you got out of that!?" snapped Sam. "He made me eat Torahs. He shat on me TWICE!"  
"This is so wrong," said Blobby, grabbing his mouth. "You know you need to change John back. You altered his destiny. How on Earth did you even find a spell to make him young again?"  
"I cut Castiel's wings off and ground them into a powder. Angels are so innocent, so are babies and I just, I don't know," Sam explained. After a long, silent period of Blobby grabbing his head and pulling at his hat, Sam finally asked what he’d been meaning to. "Can you please help us?" Sam beseeched. Blobby agreed to go with the mopey teenager.  
The car ride was as awkward as Sam’s facial composition. To break the weird silence Blobby finally spoke  
"So, how's Dean been doing?" he said, trying to sound concerned.  
"Well, he gets more ass than a toilet seat," Sam began.  
"Yes, and he uses your face like one, I know. But how is he really doing."  
"He's the Same, a little dick." Blobby groaned and continued internally berating himself for not putting his brother in the dryer and getting to avoid dealing with these pixie dicks.  
Blobby turned into the broken driveway of his brother’s house. They walked up the creeping steps and noticed movement in the house. Sam didn't even bother knocking, he just went right in. Baby John in his high chair turned his mutated head towards his much older brother.  
"John?" Blobby’s voice was shaky and his eyes started to water. He picked up his baby brother and held him close.  
"Toot toot mothafucka," the baby gurgled and shat in Blobby's arms. He recoiled and dropped the baby on the floor.  
"YOU SATANIC SWINE!" screeched Blobby. In that moment the baby’s spine arched and the child let out an incredible scream. The baby curled into the fetal position. The angelic grace and innocence John was made of cause him to spontaneously react to any word of Satan. Blobby held up his hands to show he meant no harm. The hands petrified the child and he set ablaze. Dean attempted to resolve the problem by calming his father and began stroking him with his feet.  
"John can't be exposed to hands," said Sam quietly, trying not to disturb the child again.  
"Why the hell not?" snapped Blobby. Sam didn't answer and continued tying their uncle’s hands behind his back. Dean peeled off his father’s charred flesh and kicked him upstairs to bed, and came back to join his uncle and brother in a conversation.  
"Do you shit brains have any idea what you've done!?" whispered the angry garden gnome.  
"Super baby" smirked Dean.  
"Dean I'ma super kick your ass if you don't get your head in the game." Blobby threw a wet plaid towel at Dean. Dean picked up the towel and wiped the smirk off his face.  
“I know a spell that can bring John back to his original form, but-” Blobby paused.  
“What?” asked Sam eagerly.  
“You’re not going to like the ingredients,” sighed Blobby.  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
When it was finally a reasonable hour Dean called his old bartender friend Jo.  
“Dean, I thought I made it clear I never-” Jo started.  
“I need your help,” Dean interrupted. He didn’t have time for this basic bitch. Jo sighed over the phone.  
“What do you need?”  
“I need ingredients; I’ll meet you at the saloon.” Dean ended the call before she could answer. He threw the phone into the back seat and continued driving. The sun had just over his head, so no glare disturbed his eyes. He checked his face in the mirror, making sure he’d look good for Jo to maybe coerce her to do the nasty. He looked into the mirror and saw nothing but a lonely man who just needed some company besides his freak show family. Maybe Jo was just what he needed. He pulled into the saloon parking lot and parked easily; there wasn’t one other car in the place. Good, Dean thought.  
He shut the car door loudly so Jo would know he had arrived. The steps made concerning sounds as his red high heeled boots pressed against them. Jo looked up from the morning paper, seeming not very happy to see him.  
“Look, I’m only doing this because it sounded serious and-” Jo looked at Dean’s feet. “Are you wearing high-heeled boots?”  
“Do you like them?” said Dean in a suave voice as he put his leg on hers.  
“Yeah...” trembled Jo. “So what kind of ingredients do you need?” she asked, trying to sound like a woman rather than a schoolgirl  
“Just some barley and clovers,” grinned Dean.  
“Then why do you need me?” The sexiness in her voice overpowered Dean and he leaned into her face.  
“NOW Sam!” he shouted. Sam ran up behind Jo and shoved a gag in her mouth. She attempted to fight him off, so Dean head butted her in the face. She was out cold.  
. . . . . . . . . . .  
Jo woke up next to a boiling cauldron that reeked of eggs. She knew it was sulfur.  
“The foot of a virgin,” Sam orated, slicing Jo’s foot at the ankle. She shrieked in pure agony as she watched her foot drop into the cauldron.  
“Wait,” interfered Dean. “You said the foot of a virgin.” He got pale white as he and the writhing girl exchanged glances. Josephine looked into his soft eyes, a tear escaping her eye. Dean lifted her up; just as Jo thought she would be rescued from this insanity he dumped her into the pot. She didn’t have time to scream before she sizzled to her doom. The incorrect ingredient made the pot turn into a disturbing green color.  
Dean didn't shed one tear as he watched the petite blonde waitress bubble to her death. Sam picked up John out of his high chair. John kicked and scratched Sam until he finally handed him to Dean, and snuggled into his chest. Blobby said a few random words that no one knows what they mean, he nodded at Dean. Dean holds John high in the air, John was Simba and Dean was Raffeki. He drops the baby into the green bubbling soup.  
After a few moment ls a tall figure emerges. John, their father, was restored to his natural age. He grew out, and tore the baby cloths he was wearing and was left exposed to his family. A sane family would have looked away, but this wasn't no ordinary family.  
"Jesus, get him some clothes" grumbled Blobby. In that moment, a spark flew right over johns head and dropped a mini pink bikini. "Thanks Jesus" praised Blobby.  
Other than the neon pink bikini, something was utterly wrong with John. Blobby gave them all a pat on the back, and the Winchesters all snuggled into the king sized bed.  
"Goodnight John" they all said in a chorus. John just turned over, and the Winchester bunch fell asleep, except for John of course. John flipped back over to face his brother. Watching his fat stomach rise up and down. John pulled out his silver hunting knife, this was for special occasions. He held up one of Blobby's blubbery arms. He angled the knife right at his wrists. watching his obese brother sleep in such peace motivated him. He severed off the chubby hand and repeats the act with the other.  
"I hope you can, handle this" John smirked collecting the two hands and putting them in his bag.  
Blobby woke up with an incredible itch in his left temple. He reached to scratch the itch and to his dumbfound surprise. There was nothing but a bloody stub rubbing against the left side of his head. Blobby sprinted into the living room to find John rubbing his face with the severed hand.  
John threw the bloody hand at his large brother. Blobby ducked but the hand was too strong . The hand landed on the tubby gnome, and crawled down to its lower body.  
"Don't touch me, John," shivered Bob.  
The hand grabs Blobby's thigh. Blobby blushed. The hand then grabbed the knife from Blobby's pocket. The hand was about to slice. Good thing Blobby's swallows holy water daily. Blobby punched his stopwatch and regurgitated on the body less hand. The have fizzled into the wood. To the cage animals suplize when the hand felt pain so did he.  
"You changed" Blobby sobbed  
"Change is good, especially if your a lesbian," John sneered.  
"That's not right" Blobby shat 1/2 gallons of tears from all the pain. He pulls out his boot knife. He stared into the gold haze gaze from his brother. The darkness consumed his eyes. Blobby slings at his brother fight in the upper abb. Johns eyes return to its natural color.  
"Why Blobby" johns pain clouded his judgement.  
" my pain shows me the light" Blobby corrected, in which the writer said:  
"Fuck yourself Blobby"  
He brother laid his bleeding head onto Blobby.  
"Blobby?"  
"What" asked Blobby  
"Am I going to die" at which this point the blood soaked Blobby. Tears flowed down his face, Blobby knew the answer.  
"I'm so scared, I don't wanna-" John faded into the darkness that consumed Blobby's soul. The body became lighter as it let go of the soul that weighed it down.  
"Good bye John" blurted Blobby, tears flowing down its fat face. Sam ran into the room.  
"Dad?!?" Screamed Sam, the tears shot out like the bullets the police shot the innocent people on Bloody Sunday. Sam picked up the lifeless body of the man who raised him. Dean onlooker with pure agony.  
"Why do you care" sneered Dean with tears stroking down his Texan tan face. " he hated you" Dean sobbed into his arm.  
" I'm going to make this right" Sam spoke "even if he hated me, he's still a better Gunter the ill ever be." Sam turned towards the queen size bed. Dean crawled into the bed, then followed Blobby, they snuggled. Sam watched for 45 mins then walked out the door. He didn't bother to look black.  
He walked 666 feet into the woods and said something in German. With a dark force a beautiful pale faced girl stared at Sam with red eyes.  
"You called" she said seductively raising an eyebrow as a single mom. Sam took off his Yamica to show respect to the German demon. She bowed and looked at him.  
"I wanna make a deal" Sam was afraid to look into her eyes.  
"Don't Winchesters know better than to make deals with semen"  
"Look, do you wanna do this or not" Sam was imported, like the wine that fueled his anger. " I wants my father back from the dead. I want three years" said Sam  
" I'll bring your father back and ill give you one year" the semen constricted. Sam saw no arguing with the TV so he agreed. After the deal was sealed with a rainbow kiss Sam returned to the pimp house. The woods weren't as scary as they were before. He was no longer capible of feeling fear. Finally making it to the house, He opened the door to see his father snuggled behind Dean. Even though Dean was Alfa bro, he was the little spoon.  
"I'm back" said Sam expecting some sort if concern  
"Shut the fuck up" said all 3 prostitutes, snuggling closer together, disregarding him. Sam put on his small black dress and white apron and begin to vigeriously scrub the floor with his tears. Dean giggled as Sam's crying face made him drool into the floor's scrub.


	3. The Clit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam discovers the only way to defeat the semens is with the Clit.

Sam itched his leg which was suffocating from his tights. He hadn't been praying attention and he managed to tear a hole on his lower calf. Dean smirked at the emotional mans misfortune. John and Blobby were still fast asleep in bed. Every now and then Johns mumblings would be soothed by Blobby's handless stub.  
Sam threw down his bucket of cleaning solution. "I FIGURED IT OUT." screamed the ph imbalanced man.  
"No offense dick scat, but you never get it". Dean raised his eyebrows, this was obviously a sex joke. Everything is .  
"Dean stop." John demanded. " it's bad enough that its his fault Mary's dead. I don't what people knowing I raised a prude." Sam scowled at the father figure who leaded him into the shadows. Sam was nothing but a slave to the pussy. Constantly beseeching it's wondrous pursuit.  
"I know how we can kill semen." murmured Sam. Dean, for the first time in his life, looked up from his pornographic magazine. He didn't even bother to ask. His mouth dropped to his balls. "yeah, I know". said Sam answering his expression.  
"Alright, alright I'm listening shit fucker." he snorted. "but I'm not praying" he added darkly. Sam brushed off his atheist brother. He was baffled that even though they fight angles and demons, he still didn't believe. Sam pulled a piece of paper out of his bra.  
"We need the Clit" .Dean prepared himself for a long rant " it's the only power that can take on the semens and-".  
"So how do we get this "magical" Clit? Are you sure it will work". Dean loved the Clit, but he was doubtful.  
"Well, we would have to make one". sighed Sam. His eyes shown even himself was doubtful.  
"And we make this how". intruded John  
"A friend will be here in a minute, she can help"  
"She?". Dean did the eyebrow thing again. Sam growled at his older yet smaller brother. Sam left the room.  
\------------------------  
When the girl arrived Sam ordered Dean to leave, but as usual he hid and watched from the other room. The blonde headed girl stared at Sam as if he was a chocolate truffle mouse bomb. She assisted him as he assembled the Clit. Watching his meaty arms create with such passion. She looked away from his arms and stared up into his face. His features were awkward and droopy. She had a kinky kick for these types of guys. He averted his focus from the clit, which he honored, and onto the girl. Her eyes so black it sucked in light. Dean ran into the room.  
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU". he hollered as if he had a cork screw pertruding from his penis.  
"Relax" . the girl put up her hands. "my name is Booby".  
"YOU'RE A SEMEN." screamed Dean. Dean turned his furious eyes to Sam.  
"I know." Sam choked ."she's the only one who could help"  
"Sam, OPEN YOUR EYES. You asked a semen to help you make the clit".  
"Actually she offered." Sam returned fire.  
"Oh even better." he scoffed.  
"I want to help you guys". Booby interrupted.  
" yeah, well we don't need the help from a semen thank you".  
"Hey I'm rooting for you freaks". she glowered. Dean looked at Sam.  
"I don't trust her. She killed an innocent girl for that meat suit". her looks suggested maybe not too innocent.  
"Oh she was dying to be used" .she smirked at her pun. Dean never looked at Booby. He was disgusted by her. In that moment, Dean stabs a butterfly knife into Sam's leg. The sharp double blade forced a stream of crimson blood down Sam's leg. Sam tightened his jaw and cringed at the pain, he was already used to. Dean scoops the blood and smears it on Boobies hand.  
"His blood is on your hands". he also smirked at his own pun and arrogantly walked away from the semen and Sam.  
\-------------------------  
Sam marveled at his beautiful new creation. Booby left nothing but a key to which it was engraved: back door. Sam finally had his turn to smirk at a pun. Sam opened Dean’s door.  
"Time to wake up".  
"Go get stabbed". Dean grumbled.  
"Don't you want to try out the Clit?" Sam asked. Dean got up and pulled on some old jeans. He ate a little breakfast this morning. 3 pieces of toast, coffee, 2 Eggo waffles, and a plait of scrabbled eyes. Sam just drank some milk with his Herplexia.  
"So what's the plan for today." said Dean, still grazing the fridge after his meal.  
"Well, we got two options. Margaret Shultz has been put into psychiatric care, she's been babbling about a black eyed women asking for her soul."  
"And?"  
"And 3 people have been murdered at the rodeo strip club."  
"STIP CLUB." screamed Dean raising his arms into the air.  
"Dean we don't even know if there's anything." Sam paused. "SUPERNATURAL".  
"I don't give a burning mother, I want to go to the strip club." to which Sam agreed.  
\------------------  
The black car drove into the parking lot way over the speed limit with Dean chanting.  
"STRIP CLUB, STRIP CLUB, STRIP CLUB".  
"Okay I get it". Sam hit Dean to sees the chanting which only resulted in Sam breaking his nose.  
They walk into the club, they were surrounded by young men, ugly men, and married men. The music was blasting and the brothers couldn't hear each other let alone them selfs. Since Sam was an optimistic prime, a half dressed women walked up to the butt brothers.  
"You want a special dance." before Dean could reach into his wallet Sam interrupted, showing off his badge.  
"We are here for the murders" .she stared at him with worry in her eyes, which were smothered with make up.  
"Noticed anything." Dean smirked at Sam. "super unnatural".  
"Look honey, all I know is that Balls was the last one with those guys before they got it. Now do you want the dance or not".  
"Yes-". Dean began.  
"Wait! Who's balls?" Sam interrupted.  
"Her name is Bella, but she's a dirty thieving whore, so we call her Balls".  
"Do you know where we could find her?" Sam asked. She was getting activated.  
"On 32nd street, Welly's bar, won't miss it". she then turned her face to an old man who was holding out a 20. Dean stared, this was the first time Sam saw Dean cry.  
The bar was only two minutest way from the strip club. A sign on the front stated: Drink Till Your Pregnant.  
"*You're" mumbled Sam. They could see from the impala a women sitting at the bar through the window. She had blonde curly hair. She was beautiful. They bounced out of the car, Dean smiled at the obvious prostitutes that hung out side the bar. They enter the establishment collecting every women's panties, except for Bella's of course.  
"Hello, Balls." blurted out Dean from behind.  
"Excuse me?" The British lady scoffed. She was attempting on drinking till she was pregnant.  
"He means Bella." Sam erected.  
"Not here." she murmured. "in public my name is Mella Tonen." she hissed. She walked into the back room, the boys followed. The room brought back memories to Dean, of all the girls he exploited and dumped.  
"What can I do for you boys." she said mostly looking at Dean.  
"Look at me." whispered Sam, he thought in his head.  
"What did you say?" Bella turned her head to Sam.  
"Uh- shook a tree, I shook a tree today". he was as smooth as sand paper.  
"You were the last to 'talk' to the men before they died at the rodeo strip club." Dean said, throwing Sam a bone. Sam thanked him by shoving a picture of a naked women into Dean’s pocket.  
"Oh honey there was no talking". she made a seductive smile at Dean. The smile had detonated an explosion in Dean’s pants. She gave up. "I had obtained intel that those boys had been selling their souls to prostitute semens. As you know those boys were hunters, and I was in need of some new merchandise, big girls gotta eat."  
"So it wasn't you." said Sam redundantly.  
"Well" Dean handed her a business card. "If you ever want to exchange notes." she took the card and put it into her beige coat pocket. She spun around and left the bar. Both Sam and Dean fell to their knees  
"She got a booty." they both drooled.  
"I call dibs." called Sam  
"Fuck." Dean scowled. Sam chuckled and they left the bar.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------  
Dean was sitting on the hotel bed going through the files of the rodeo strip club.  
"Dude, yeah hungry." asked Sam looking up from his laptop..  
"Starving my balls off".  
"I'm stopping by the diner, ill pick something up for you".  
"Thanks man." Dean was happy. Him and his brother were getting along. Dean looked up into the ceiling, dad wouldn't be proud. Sam left and shut the door behind him. Exactly two minutes and 43 seconds later a loud knock was on the door.  
"Back already." barked Dean. He eagerly opened the door. "Mella Tonen?"  
"We're not in public dumb ass, you can call me Bella now."  
Dean coughed " Bella, what are you doing here?i gave you a fake address."  
"Im good and Well, you said if I ever wanted to exchange notes". she looked at her feet then his eyes. Dean sat on the bed.  
"Okay." he said pulling out his journal, wich was filled with hundreds of poor drawings of girls and him fighting demons.  
"Alright, that's enough note taking." She hopped on top of Dean. She caressed his face, before the white mamba could make his way hope Bella pulled out a gun "give me the clit Dean" she demanded  
"Bella??? What are you doing" Dean was on the verge of a mental breakdown. Refusal of the D put him into post dramatic shock. Wile Dean was in this paralyzed state Bella took the clit. She stood back on top of him and whispered in his ear  
"Thanks Dean" when Sam walked into the room, anyone could think a different situation was taking place.  
"Dean?!?" Screamed Sam. He looked over at Bella "AND MELLA"  
"For the last time, call me Bella."  
"Get out before I hella kick your ass." shrieked Sam. Bella grabbed her purse from the other room and scampered out. Sam snapped his neck at Dean.  
"I called dibs you whore." hissed Sam.  
"SON OF A BITCH" hollered Dean  
"Ya sure, lets just get the hell out of here." Sam packed all his things and went to the drawer to get the clit, but to his shock "Dean? Where's the clit?" Dean stayed speechless.  
"Uh".  
"Bella STOLE THE FUCKING CLIT".  
"She took it from me". Dean was on the verge of tears.  
"You know we'll never find her again." Dean hung his head in shame.  
"It's your fault, you should have watched her go." Dean was right, Sam handed him the wip and his mustache. Dean showed no mercy in teaching Sam a lesson.  
They left in the middle of the night, to be come one with the moon people"I'm so mad at that bitch, if she asked to have sex, I'd say no." Dean growled. Sam was amazed at Dean’s anger. He gripped the steering wheel harder then the grasp of his memories in hell. He stompped down on the gas, faces and houses zoomed past the sacrid feather. Dean needed peace and quiet before he killed a bitch. Of course in the winchester house hold, you need to kill a bitch in order to shut up. Memories of mary flooded the thought. They returned to their fathers house around 2am. The lights were still on. They entered the fresh hold.  
"Where have you boys been?!?" Shrieked John, one of his pink curlers fell out as he vigorously shook his head.  
"Dad we were just-" Sam began, only to be cut off by his unworthy father, John.  
"-Missing Blobbys birthday" he pointed towards the tubby man sitting in a high chair with a birthday hat on. Tears stained his chubby face.  
"I waited for you" more tears fell down Blobbys face. All the candles had burned out on his cake, drowned in a pool of their own wax. Blobby tried to cut him self a piece of cake, but his handless Stubbs prevented him. John walked over to the helpless man. He dug the spoon into the week old cake and fed Blobby. Blobbys sniffling made it impossible to swollow.  
Blobby took off his hat to reveal a note on the top of his purple head. He handed it to the "brothers".  
'Dear Sam and Dean' it said  
'Im so sorry you couldn't make it to my birthday party. Hope you can come next year; if I'm still alive.  
I saved you a piece of cake -Blobby'  
"I'm so sorry Blobby, I've been having a hard time" Dean attempted to get sympathy from the hairy blob. Access denied. But Dean had been going through a crisis. For some reason, every women since Bella, he can't get it up. If only Blobby knew of his nephew’s predicament, he would've helped.  
"How can we make this up to you?" Sam asked as he made that face of a dog when you just run it over with your SUV, memories of Leroy entered Dean’s mind. Blobby grabbed the big flappy collars of the boys and yanked them so close, that water vapor formed on their skin from Blobby’s breath. Access granted.  
"Stop the apocalypse," he whispered. Blobby released them. The boys left John as he cleaned Blobby. John ran the old family dish towel under some hot water. he drenched the plaid hand towel till it dripped with hot suds. he lifted the towel to Blobby’s face, and proceeded to wash all the frosting off his unshaven mutt. The Twinchesters went upstairs to their rooms to think. Their room was the Same. Dean still got top, bunk. We all know what that means. (Killer slumber parties)  
"Dude, what are we doing " Sam coughed. The world spun around this giant faster then the end of Christ. The world was spinning with out him and he didn't know how to catch up. Dean for once had an idea.  
"Let's summon Asstiel!" Dean said too excitedly. Him and Ass go way back (if you know what i mean) Sam agreed, along with the quotations. Dean linked hands with his brother, Sam’s little girl hands got lost in the rough southern worker boy hands that caressed his skinny fingers. They closed their eyes and gave each other a hug. The hug brought back memories of that time when Mary was burning and Dean had to bring Sam out side. Sam was only a baby.  
"Asstiel we need you" they chanted, and to close the summoning they grabbed each others firm butts.  
They waited hours, sitting in that lonely room. doubt washed over the boys like high tide in a lunar eclipse tidal zone . till finally Asstiel walked into the room. "I'm Asstiel, I am an angel of the Pussy"  
"ASS WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG" demanded dirty Dean. His lips as pursed as a virgin prostitute.  
"I'm sorry, but someone grounded my wings" he said with his nasally voice. He shot a glare at Sam. Sam wimpered like a wounded dog that had been crushed by an 16 wheeler. He was the only one who believed in the pussy, yet the angels still hate him.  
"Dean," said Ass making Sam feel rejected " a semen by the name of Ablazal is attempting to start the apocalypse" his swayed his lonely blue eyes to his feet, the feet of a father, who had a lovely daughter. Castiel's vessel,Jimmy, was only a devout man to the pussy, this is how he was rewarded. Getting shot and healed 1000 times over, stripped from his free will, he was pulled away from his family.  
"What do you need us to do" Dean stood up and began to pack. "To end the apocofish"  
"Salem Massachusetts, that's where you will find him. At precisely 3am the dicks of hell will rise" with that Ass jumped out the window. Of course Ass didn't tell them any more details, he seemed to have a liking towards misfortune. This explains his connection to Dean.  
Their watches struck 3am. in the middle of salems most profound field, giant dicks erected from below. Within 1.6 minutes Ablazal apeared. Right onto Sam and Dean’s devils trap. Ablazal dropped the blunt, a rare sight of this semen.  
"What are you doing fools"  
"How do we stop this, the apocalypse" demanded Dean. Ablazal didn't talk, he knew better then to give any information to a Blunter, let alone the Twinchesters. Dean had only drinken holy water for the past week. As you all know, semens don't like that shit. He un zipped his apple bottom jeans and He pissed on the semens face. It sizzled and burned. Like bacon on a greasy pan.  
"Okay, okay. You have to slaughter a seal from the Boston aquarium". Dean didn't interject, he simply snapped his fingers at Sam.  
Sam returned bloody and limping, but in his hands was a plump seal. Dean took the seal from his brothers hands, and mutalated it with his bare strength. He beat it down with his bare fist till there was nothing left but lard.  
"Dean BROKE THE FIRST SEAL" Asstiel made a blood curdling cry. Ablazal simply giggled.  
"You ass licking moon fucker" snarled Dean. He peed a little more, this time completely drenching the semen. The semen spazzed in pain, Sam felt its suffering. The semen seaked his Mouth shut. Dean saw no other way. Dean reached into his wallet and threw a roll of condums at the semen. Ablazal arched his back and let out a scream that put castiels reall vouce to shame. The semen let out a few black tears before talking.  
"The only way for the apacolypes to end, is for two richious brothers to seal the deal" Ablazal shivered in agony. To seal a deal with a semen, they have to kiss.  
"Why?" Muttered Sam. Ablazal lost his evil grin, they were left with a quivering vegetable. Dean turned towards his younger brother. His face shown neither disgust or pleasure. Sam returned the flavor. As Sam leaned towards his brother, Dean held out his hand on Sam’s chest.  
"I can't" a single tear trickled down his hardened face. Sam put his caring hand on Dean’s face, he could no longer hide his pain. He leaned onto the warm hand. Dean didn't dare look at Sammy. The hand began to stroke the tired face. His features began to soften, and it revealed a new man. Sam turned Dean’s face and gave him, not just a peck, but a kiss on the cheek.  
The dicks of hell were so delighted by this they ejaculated thousands of semen out from the bowels of hell.  
"ABLAZAL?!?" Chorused the butt buddies. Ablazal threw out the act, and brought back his evil smirk. The trap broke, and the semen was free along with its brothern. He joined the black fog that hung over the entire northern hemisphere.  
"Dean?" A pair of familiar voices from behind them spoke. Sam and Dean spun around faster than you could say 'I have genital herpies'. Standing by was John and Mary Winchester.  
"Dean we're so proud of you" they spoke together in perfect harmony, it's been a wile since that happend. "this is all Sam’s fault, I told you to ditch him" John grunted.  
"Mom? Dad?" Sam choked on the bitterness in his body. The rejected peasant threw down his wheel barrel and stood up to the king, queen, and prince. No longer will the peasant starve. 'Long live the French Revolution' he told him self for some kind of courage.  
"What do you want semen child" Mary spat.  
"I just want you to love me, and be normal" he wimpered at his reflection shown through the broken glass that littered the field.  
"Oh Sam" Mary grabbed her tall sons face. She stroked his scratched cheek "how could I love some one like you, a twink" she attempted to smile at her youngest son, but for some reason in heaven, she couldn't.  
With a sudden jolt Dean brought Sam back to life. He lifted his wasted body from the twinkling dew covered grass. After kissing his brother, the blasts from the semen effected all believers in the pussy, Sam was hit harder then the workers during the Wall Street crash. Sam was and will always be the listener of the pussy. The whispering will never seize.  
Ass formed in the woods and returned to the gospels, elaserated. Ass was a speaker for the pussy, he was almost destroyed. His blue eyes twitched a bit when ever he was around Sam, he still hasn't understood why. Ass held out a hand to help the fallen twink. 'Why must you call him that' Ass thought towards the writer. The writer creeped out of her tits struck ass with lightnign in order to silence him. Ass couldn't tell those freaks about her, this would cause some serious explaining.  
'How could he know what I was writing' the writer thought to her self, then shrugged it off. Little did she know he was narrarating her.  
Weeks past and little Sammy began to change. Everyone could see it. But just like america, when something bad was happening, he hid it. It was Dean’s 27th annaverisery of his circimsition, John wanted to celebrate by bringing the kids and Blobby to the resturant J'adore Beit, Dean’s favorite.  
The sat down at the table, there was a thick layer of residue on their table. 'Exstra flavor' Blobby thought to himself and kicked his lips. Odd lumps and hives had formed on the uncles lips, the boys saw no reason to ask what they were. Sam played with the candle on the table wile they waited for their server. His fingers were black when she arrived.  
Sam looked over at the table next to theirs. A mom, a dad, and two boys. One was playing on a gaming system, wile the other one watched. Sam scoffed to himself. Their waiter came and he almost looked away instill she said:  
"Hi my names Mella, ill be your server this evening" Sam looked back at his pathetic excuse of a table.  
"Dean!" He urgently nudged his brother.  
"Hey! It's my annaverisery, I get to choose the appetizers" growled Dean through his (remarkably nice teeth, seeing that he didn't have a normal childhood, makes you think if he's really a winchester). Dean obviously wasn't going to help his brother, even though he promised his mother and father before they tragically met their end. Sam got up from his seat, and proseaded down to the back of the resturant.  
Bella had her blond hair tied tight behind her ears. She put up the little slips of paper with people's orders on the rack. She flirted with every male in the kitchen, she was particular fond of a tall man by the name of Jacques. Sam watched as she slipped his fat wallet into her pocket. Bella slipped out the back door, Sam could relate.  
He followed her to the parking lot. The night had pulled a vanishing act and there was only one car. It was dark and cloudy. The moon people couldn't assist Sam in his peeping. She leaned her loose body into the window. Sam creeped forward to get a better look.  
She handed the wallet to a dark petit figure in the car. Sam saw it, the master less clitorous.  
Sam ran back into the resturant, he shoved tables out of his path. Drinks flew into the air and smashed onto the waxed floor. Glass shattered like Sam’s dreams of going to collage.  
Dean looked up from the Hungry Family appetizers. Sam threw himself onto the table. He grabbed Dean’s face with his waxed thighs.  
"Dean" his breath was heavy from running "Bella's got the clit" Dean dropped the buffalo chicken wing from his sweaty lips. The clit was the only weapon against the semen. If Bella was in town, she's got trouble coming. John threw his glass onto the floor.  
"Can't we just have a nice dinner?" His eyes flared at Sam. His meal steamed, laying untouched.  
"I just, I" Sam couldn't find the words, he got dizzy. John sat back down. It didn't matter if Sam ever answered, John wasn't going to hear it. He returned to his ranch cheesy steak. Dean looked from Sam to his father.  
Without warning Dean stood up. "Where is she" he asked. Sam told him everything he saw.  
"She's taking the mass pike" he finally let out. The boys left the establishment, along with their father, with nothing but his horrors of his past.


	4. Familiar Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean go after Bella to retrieve the Clit. The brothers get captured by a familiar mistake. Bella lets Dean go, leaving Sam.

Sam and Dean hopped into the car. Dean still couldn't believe he left his father like that, old and alone. Sam turned off the country rock tunes.  
"Hey I have a joke." He giggled. Dean rolled up the windows in order to hear what Sam the man had to say.  
"Since dad is never home, we should call him....gone" Sam erupted with laughter. Sams happiness was cut short When Dean jammed the brakes. Deans glare burned a hole into Sams face. He immediately shut his mouth. Dean returned to driving smoothly. Sam always admired his driving skills, the love he showed his dear impala. Sam yearned for Deans gentle touch.  
It didn't take long before Bella's car was spotted. Tweedle Dean and Tweedle dum followed the car to a fancy hotel, to which Dean was disgusted.  
Dean didn't show it but he desperately needed to be near Bella. Dean told Sam to stay in the car, he didn't want Sam to be even more mad at him for breaking the dibs. But Sams a shitter and doesn't listen (sorry).  
The elevator was out of order, thus our strong men had to climb 6 flights of stairs. Sam saw the symbolism in this. Each step was another lie he told to Dean. He looked up to see Dean was one floor ahead of him. Just like in their hunting missions. Dean was just always one step ahead, except this time.  
"Quit lagging" barked Dean. Sam panted and quickened his pace. He smiled every other step, because he tried his hardest not to lie to Dean.  
After 5 floors Sam had to stop. His legs throbbed and his heart was about to fly out of his big meaty chest. Without warning, Sam was hit over the head with a club.  
Sam awoke to a dim hotel room. It was like any other Hotel sweet. There was two beds, a TV, and a dresser. The wallpaper was cheap roses with blue ribbons, it was an overall sky blue color. Bella emerged from the other room.  
The straps wrapped around his perspirating body restricted him to fight. The anger of losing the clit bubbled out of his body. Bella giggled at the glimpse of fire in his eyes. She lifted her Chanel soft hands and stroked his face. Before she could get to work on the gentle giant, someone slammed the door with incredible force.  
"Shammy"? Dean called into the quiet room. He took three steps in, admiring the fine art that decorated the walls. Who ever owned this suit must have a lot in the bank. Before dean could swipe some of his own booty, he was muzzled and tied to a chair. It didn't take him long to find Sam.  
"Wie ist meine Lieblings Schwulen Eltern?" Out of the bathroom strolled out a familiar mistake, Leroy. The mangled mut limped over to Dean.  
"Hallo papa" he gurgled in Dean's ear, he dragged his dying legs to Sams chair "hallo mama" he slobbered a kiss on Sam's cheek. Sam grumbled and attempted to turn his head from the smelly dog. A mixture of anger and serenity filled Sams gut. He still remembered the first day they met Leroy.  
The dog made his way right in between the Twinchesters.  
"What do you want" spat Sam. Anger riddled is persperating face. His mouth twitched a little as he waited for the dog to answer his question. The dog passed a little, every now and then he shot a glance At the boys.  
"You really don't know do you?" Leroy smirked "at first I wanted to murder you and shove Oxy clean up your ass, but then I found out you basket cases started the apocalypse" dean and sam looked down in shame, they prayed to Asstiel that he didn't know how they started the apocalypse. Leroy continued.  
"But here's the best part, you are lucifer and Michael's vessel"  
"What?" The boys said together, like always.  
"You two are the only ones who can contain The angles."  
"So why are we needed"  
"Satan and the archangel are going to return to have, The sex. Who ever ends up on top wins." Leroy gave out a barely laugh at the brothers expressions. He's definitely not going to miss this.  
"Look Leroy, I'm so sorry this happened to you" he looked at the 'dogs' mangled body "I would do anything to take it back.  
"Oh Sammy," sam growled " it wasn't all your fault" he shot a glance at Dean, Fean returned an awkward smile.  
"Leroy" a British bitch voice calls, Della. Sam rolled his eyes at the sight of her. She was wearing a cocktail dress and a full face of make up. "Just let dean go." Dean gave a thumbs up to sam with a stupid ass face. Sam slouched in his chair.  
"I called dibs" he whimpered.  
"Now, cherry nipples, why would I do that" Leroy said in a baby voice, dean immediately thought of his father.  
"Please" she beseeched the eradicated dog. Both his body and soul had been damaged by the Twinchesters, he couldn't possibly let them go. A single tear dropped onto her fake face. Leroy licked it, smudging her excessive make up. Leroy threw in the towel and and gave into bellas request.  
she quickly slipped behind Dean and cut him loose from the chair. He didn't look once as he ran out the door. Leaving his larger brother to rot in his encagement. He sped down the highway back to the diner, he sat down and finished his happy family appetizers. John pat deans back hard to show how happy he was of his disitions.

 

6 months passed, Dean continued hunting semens and other superunnatural beings. He enjoyed not being stuck with Sam for hours on his journeys. No more stupid jokes, and definently no more of his gassy bowels. But most of all he no longer had his brother. The car rides consisted of John in his car seat in the back, and bobby sitting shot gun. Their body's radiated, un washed man odors. Dean loved every moment of it.  
They pulled up to a cheap motel 'wild legs' Dean distinctly remembered using that word at some point in his life. That thought was soon compromised with the realization of only two beds. Blobbys only concern was which Wincester he would make bed with. The motel was mostly known for the best prostitutes in the state. Both John and Blobby were happy. Dean was never happy, but going to the Wild Legs motel was like taking a handful of exstacy.  
The ravonious shag monkeys ran into their room and threw there bags onto the bed. Blobby quivered with excitement. Wile dean and Blobs fuck around through the stripper phone book. John reclused over to the corner. Mary wrapped herself around his brain, not the good kush though. How could he betray his gamete holder. Dean threw a picture of Sugar Plum in the Bum at John.  
"DAD CAN I HAVE THIS ONE PLEASE!" Dean begged as if for is life.  
"Check it, then wreck it" he winked at one of his favorite sons. Dean giggled and hugged his dad. His hair still smelled like mutated baby.  
They could do nothing but sit on their cheap spring mattresses, as they wait for Sugar. There was a hard knock and dean was up faster then america sticking their fat noses into other people's wars. He ran to the door and swung it open with exaggerated force.  
Sugar was a tall, underweight, and lanky. Sugars long dirt brown hair cover her, what dean assumed, disturbing face. Her tight fitting cloths revealed that she was flat as a board, but dean honestly didnt care this time. He didnt want to pull a Christmas party mistake again.

*Flashback*:  
Dean watched the snow fall out the window. He hated family parties. They only consisted of 3 or 4 people and every year that number would decrease. Instead of comming attached to his family and going through the pain of losing them, dean thought it would be best if he just ignored them and pretended he didn't care.  
Of course he was sitting next to Sammy, they were always together, like conjoined twins. Hence their last names. Twinchesters. Sam was breathing heavily due to his weezing, his asthma always acted up this time of year. He had his hands in his lap as he looked around at his family's faces. The Sasquatch looked in all of their eyes with exstream urge, the urge to be loved.  
The party finally lightened up when uncle Blobby invited a prostitute. She had golden blond hair, which was obviously fake. she scoward the disgrace of a party for a man that would be willing to pay. her eyes first hit Sam, cause it was virtally impossible not to see the giant. after watching for some time watching his heavy breathing, she decided it wasnt worth it.  
her attention went strait to Dean next, his face was harder then Sam.... 'S home life.  
His eyes locked on hers, he knew exactly what kind of bussiness she was here for. Dean grabbed his wallet from sams pocket. Sam wasn't quite use to dean touching him like that yet, he shivered at his cold touch.  
The blonde she-devil lured dean into his parents room. Seeing pictures of Mary, Sam, and John didnt turn him off as much as he thought it would. She threw the prince (I ment to say piece) of sex on to the bed. She crawled up on his trembling body and revealed herself  
"Where's the tits" he shouted. Dean was Never going to have that happen again. He took her by her hand and dragged her into the same room where he dragged the blonde she demon before. The picture frames still watched him with the same disappointed looks.  
Dean went over to picture frame of his mother, Mary. He gently picked up the picture frame and put it face down. He didn't want his mother to be more disappointed in him. Somewhere in heaven an angel was crying. And it wasn't just Castiel. Sugar smashed being into this poorly springed bed.

\----------  
"DAD!!!!!" Screamed Dean from the other room. John's head shot up from his casa erotica book, What's on earth could've possibly gone wrong, he said in his head. But he thought that far over and realize there are so many things I could've gone wrong, They were fucking Winchesters.

Dean pushed open the door with a prostitute in his hand. He threw her onto the ground. Her long limbs sprawled out onto the ground. Did dean leave some for me? John thought to himself.  
"I told you to wreck it Dean!" John shouted. Dean ripped the golden wig off of the prostitutes head and revealed a familier brown messy mop.  
"Sam?" John gasped.  
That's were the tits went, Dean thought to himself.


	5. The finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean realizes that Sam hasn't been himself. But neither has Dean.

Sam cried all the horrific make up off his face, which revealed his sad, miserable features. This didn’t bother Dean or his anger.  
"What the hell Sammy!" shrieked Dean, his claws pulling and shredding his spiky hair. The great disappointment was nothing compared to the burning hatred he felt towards, not his brother, but himself. He always blamed himself. But that didn’t mean he couldn't teach the kid a lesson.  
"It's not my fault," Sam whimpered into the shit stained carpet.  
"Oh you hear that Dad?" Dean laughed toward John, who couldn't bear to listen. "It wasn't his fault, so I can't beat the shit out of him."  
"No-Noooo," Sam flinched, raising his shaved arms over his face. "It wasn't!"  
"Then what happened" Dean was on his last nerve. "How the hell did you become a freakin prostitute Sam?" Sam was gasping uncontrollably from all the tears. Within moments he confessed.  
"I sold my soul to bring dad back and my time was up." Sam choked. "They brought me into the fucking pit Dean! The fucking pit." Deans memories of hell crawled at the back of his thick skull "and- and when they were about to turn me into a semen, they realized I was a Wincester."   
"So?" Barked Dean.  
"So they thought it would be funny for me to just collect semens" Sam was crying out his lungs. Dean picked up Sam’s reeking satchel, we all know what's inside, and threw it into the waste basket. Leaving the room, he gave his younger brother a hard pat on the back. This was Dean’s first and only act of empathy towards his brother, and for that Sam was grateful. But John stayed. He watched his youngest, well, one of his youngest, soil himself on the ugly rug until he finally got himself together.  
...  
Dean woke up to daylight for the first time in all of his life as a hunter.  
"Dad? Why the balls didnt you wake me up?!? It's 12!" Dean grumbled as he kicked over the night stand. After his tantrum being ignored, he realized there was no answer. "Dad?" Dean ran into the other room. "Sammy! Sammy wake up, I can't find Dad." Gigantor fumbled himself out of the bed and rolled onto the floor.  
They searched the empty house to find nothing but an old, crinkled piece of paper. Dean knew this process very well, he used it on every girl he slept with. John had left.  
Dear Dean,   
Sorry kid, I gotta get going. Watch out for that little pansy ass.  
Stick it where the sun shines,  
-John   
"What? He just left!?" gasped Sam ironically due to this being his fault. His shock distracted him from the fact that the letter was addressed to Dean, not him. Dean turned towards Sam.  
"Look, Dad’s gone now, and it's up to us to find each others’ prostates." Dean, realizing what just flew out of his throat, cupped his mouth. "What the fuck did I just say?!"  
"That wasnt you," spazzed Asstiel, appearing behind Sam. He grabbed their over sized cuffs and apparated them into a apartment complex.  
Right as I was going to complete the paragraph, there was agitated slams on my cheap apartment door. Im imagining this, probably from my lack of sleep. No one ever visits. Usually I'm stuck here creating disturbing fictions, but the knocks continue. Before getting up, I could barely hear faint whispers.  
"What the hell are we doin' here Ass?"  
"The reasoning for your.... communication choices."  
There was more knocks. "Come back later!" I shouted over my shoulder. I don't have fucking time for any distractions, no matter how deep and sexy their voices are.   
Compromising my concentration, the door was kicked down by pure blunt force. Three men entered my four-room complex. The tall one ripped me from the keyboard. DEAN HAS A BIG DICK. Sam quickly removed his egotistical brother off the computer.  
"Jesus, how old are you? Sixteen?" Dean growled, looking me up and down.  
"No?" My fear butchered my words, making me sound younger. " Who are you? What do you want? I keep my money in the bank I don't-"  
"No that's not how this works. You tell us who you are, or this could get nasty." There was a long pause, I was too petrified to laugh at the end of his threat. His voice snapped me out of it. "My silence is your cue."  
"I'm- I am Samantha Singer." I held up my hands to show my innocence.  
"Woah, are you related to Blobby Singer?" the giant sex figure asked. He seemed more empathetic.  
"How did you-? He's one of my characters. Do you read Superunnatural?" I didn't know I had such big, dangerous fans. Sam and Dean turned to Asstiel for guidance.  
"She's a prophet," Asstiel confirmed. Dean’s confusion shredded into anger.  
"Finding each others’ prostates," he hissed. "Really?!?" His eyebrows were soothed with his Texas hands. Red embarrassment splotched over my freckled face.  
"So, everything I write, is real." I hid my enormous smirk from the three boys I knew very well and sprinted back to the computer.  
Dean bagan to remove his cloths to strip tease for Samantha. He never realized how attractive she was.  
"Stop!" Dean shrieked as his pants fell to the ground. His resistance was compromised by the sudden desire of the red headed girl. He walked slowly to consume her.  
Right as my fantasies were about to come true, the sharpest of pains erupted in my lower abdomen.   
"For the greater good," Asstiel whispered as he twisted the silver blade. Feeling the finale blow, I'm left to


End file.
